Confessions of the Insane
by Boogum
Summary: I smile. I don’t know why. I just know it is my secret.


**Warnings: Death, blood, graphic violence, adult themes.**

**A/N: I was not going to post this because I felt it was a bit too disturbing, but a few people expressed some interest in reading it, so I have decided to put it on my account. Admittedly, this version is tamer than the original that was deleted – that one really was too graphic – but its content is still of a disturbing nature, so if you're looking for fluff, you'd best find a new one-shot to read. **

**Confessions of the Insane**

_I stare at my hands in dumb shock. They are slender, pale – smothered in red. I watch the crimson slowly inch down my skin, tracing the veins of my bare arms. A gasp escapes my throat. The sound startles me, and I turn to run, but my foot catches on something. I stumble, leaving bloody handprints on the carpet where I put my hands out to stop myself. My stomach twists in fear at the sight, and I quickly scramble backwards._

_My fingers brush against silk – a sheet. It is dark green, luxuriant, seeming harmless. But there is a lump under that sheet that sickens me. My eyes helplessly follow the outline of that nameless shape. There are dark splotches slowly beginning to stain the green covering, and for some reason this frightens me._

"_**Look at me**__."_

_I look around nervously, wondering where the whisper came from._

"_**Look at me."**_

_My heart turns cold with horror as I realise that the voice is coming from the unnameable lump. I do not want to know what is under the sheet, yet, as if driven by some inexplicable force, I cannot help but move closer. I close my trembling hand over the material where the dark splotches are the most prominent and pull it upwards. A scream escapes my lips, and I drop the sheet in a flutter of green silk._

I open my eyes.

There are two men watching me from behind a glass wall. Both are wearing white. I hate that colour. Everything is white in this room. The men enter my cage through the metal doors, and the fat one takes a seat opposite me. I can see by the tag on his robe that his name is Eric. The file in his hands labels me with one name: insane. There were people who would call me by another, but they don't come and see me anymore.

The one named Eric is speaking to me. He wishes to know how I am feeling today.

"Do you know what's under the sheet?" I ask him instead.

He stares at me, perplexed.

"I don't want to look," I continue. "It frightens me."

"Why does it frighten you?" he asks in his cool, detached voice.

I stare down at my hands, suddenly uncertain.

"You're never going to get a sane word out of this one," the man on Eric's left says scornfully. "This one lost it long ago."

Eric frowns. "Thank you, Boris, that will be enough. I can take it from here."

"But—"

"I'll be perfectly fine."

I watch Boris leave the room. Now Eric and I are alone. I am pleased. I do not like Boris.

"It says on your file that you've been here for six years," Eric says while glancing down at the parchment. He places the file on the table and stares at me intently. "Tell me, do you remember what happened that night?"

I close my eyes.

_There is a silver letter opener in my hand. I am crying, and I can see a face in the mirror, beautiful in all its painful exquisiteness, laughing at my tears. _

I clench my hands into fists and look at Eric – Eric who is too fat and old to anger me with his beauty.

"You do remember, don't you?" he persists, watching me closely. "I can see it in your face."

I lower my gaze, refusing to answer.

"You can trust me, you know," Eric says gently. "I'm only here to help you."

I am quiet for a moment, and then I slowly raise my eyes back to his.

"Do you know who Draco Malfoy is?"

"You should know that better than anyone," he replies, somewhat reprovingly.

"He was very handsome, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was," Eric agrees. "Is that why you did it?"

I smile. I don't know why. I just know it is my secret.

Eric clenches his jaw. I can see that he is annoyed by my reticence. He wants to be the one to discover the truth. But no one can know that.

"_**One day they will**_**,**" the voice taunts.

I freeze. I do not like that voice.

"_**One day they will all know what you did to me**__."_

I can feel myself trembling. I grip the table to steady myself.

"_**You cannot hide from the truth forever**_**, **_**Ginevra**_."

"Miss Weasley," Eric says, staring at me in some concern. "Are you all right?"

_I am standing in the room. There is a silver letter opener in my hand. The open parchment lies at my feet, and there are tears spilling freely down my cheeks. The blond laughs when he sees my tears, and I feel my already shredded heart fray to pieces in my chest. I look at him through the mirror, meeting his beautiful grey eyes which right now are filled with so much mockery. _

"_You're pathetic, Ginevra," he says in his low, velvety voice. "Did you honestly think that I would stay with someone as plain and stupid as you?"_

"_You told me you loved me," I say in a pitifully broken voice._

_A cruel smile curls his lips. "I lied."_

_Something in my mind snaps. My fingers tighten around the silver letter opener in my hand, and I turn on my heel and drive it straight into the blond's handsome face. Crimson bursts forth from the wound, and the vividness of the colour fascinates me. He lets out a scream of rage and tries to reach for his wand, but I am faster. _

"NO!" I scream, clutching my head to banish the horrible images. "I didn't do it! I didn't do it!"

The voice is laughing in my head. I close my eyes, trying to block out the terrifying world around me, but there is no solace in my mind.

I am alone in the room. Alone with the unnameable lump under the sheet.

"_**Look at me,"**_ the voice whispers.

I do not want to, but I am unable to resist that velvety command. I place my hand over the material and pull it slowly upwards. A face, hideously mutilated, stares back at me from empty eyes. It is barely recognisable as human, it is so disfigured.

This was the man I loved.

I only wanted to destroy his beauty. I only wanted to make him as ugly as his soul – as ugly as he made me feel.

I didn't mean to kill him.

But I did.


End file.
